This is probably definitely exactly what it felt like when Dr. Dre discovered Eminem.

Last week, Meechy, most assuredly the more outgoing of my twin sons, freestyle rapped, only it was less like he freestyle rapped and more like he FREESTYLE RAPPED. It was like when Reggie Miller went berserk-o in that fourth quarter of that ’94 playoff game against the Knicks. It was like when Mickey Rourke mollywhipped that racecar in half with that electro-whip in Iron Man 2. It was like if Brad Pitt and Will Smith had a baby, but, to be clear, only if we’re talking about Fight Club Brad Pitt and I Am Legend Will Smith, not Tree of Life Brad Pitt and Pursuit of Happiness Will Smith.

The entire video — HIS FIRST MUSIC VIDEO, OMG — is 18 seconds long, seven of which were spent prepping. It was filmed in the living room. In it, he is wearing grey boxer briefs and tiny tan nipples. That’s it. He’s the next Uncle Luke, probably.

The background music is from that silly song that Justin Timberlake and Andy Samberg did about threesomes, which happened because the boys came downstairs while I was trying to show my wife some other Lonely Island video because, dang, that poor lady spends the totality of her days with someone shouting at her to come look at something suuuuuper funny.

The lyrics, which read like something from Nas‘ Illmatic, are as follows, along with footnotes that follow the follows:

(1) He never remembers to put his dishes away after dinner (and even when he does that motherfucker holds his plate up and down like a goddamn stop sign so whatever food remnants he has left over always fall on the floor), and sometimes he forgets to take his underwear off before he gets in the bathtub, but he has a preternatural understanding of the rapper ad-lib, which is even stevens in my book.

(2) His definition of “thug” is flexible. Sometimes it means “a guy that curses,” but mostly I think he think it means “a guy that does any number of bad things.” One time he told me it meant “A guy that gets the sword from the fridge.” We have a ninja sword tucked away in between the refrigerator and the kitchen cabinet. I got it from my sister one year for Christmas. I asked her for socks. That’s a whole different story.

(3) The boys like to play all the sports. One session of YMCA basketball, Meechy got paired up in a game against a kid that was much older/faster/stronger/smarter/meaner. The boy LOCKED him down on defense totally. He wouldn’t even let him look at the ball. Meechy got so frustrated he just started sprinting around the court crying. I suspect that’s why he cited a location as specific as “in the house.” Nobody messes with him in the house. Outside the house, he’s a baby turtle.

Side Note: To his credit, Meechy went back to the gym the next week and demanded he be allowed to play the much older/faster/stronger/smarter/meaner kid again so “this time I can make him cry.”

(4) He’s composed other rap songs before. My personal favorite is “Baby Gravy,” which goes, “My name is Baby, I ate some gravy.” I’ll probably talk to him about changing the title. It sounds a little too much like the name of some sort of toddler porno.

(5) All day, 11 seconds.

(6) Love: ending a rap song with “Daddy.” I mean, a million Christmas presents for him this year.

I trust that the boys will hold music in somewhere near them for large portions of their lives. We listen to it every day and they play the drums and have already expressed an interest in learning to play the guitar (malibooyah!) and the trumpet (ewww).

But I don’t see how it can go anywhere from here except lower.

We are at the ultimate.

We are at the utmost.

We are standing on Zeus’s shoulders, striking lightning bolts down towards Earth’s firmament from the heavens.